


True Colors

by a_pathetic0524



Series: Everlasting Love [1]
Category: ONE OK ROCK
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Broken english, Canon Dramatization, Drama & Romance, Headcanon, Implicit Sex Scene, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Night Stand, Original Work is Mine, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Relationship, Prequel, Slight Differences with Original Work Just Because I Can't Find Correct English, Translation, Unfinished Translation for Finished Work, You May Think OOC Ensues but Headcanon Anyway, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-06-21 04:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15549816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_pathetic0524/pseuds/a_pathetic0524
Summary: ❝Sleep with me.❞One short sentence, which doesn't sound as simple and easy to say, comes out from the mouth of the guitarist of the Japanese rock band ONE OK ROCK for the band's vocalist, making their already complex behind-the-scenes relationship worsen.A prequel.





	1. Don't Cry Over Spilt Soup

**Celebration**. Party. A moment full of happiness they shared between the four of them. Or it should be, if not because of someone among them ruined their moment by falling into silence when the four of them were busy drumming the table and blowing the trumpet making a sound harmonious to his singing voice. When they tried showering the man's head with pieces of colorful paper crepe, the man furrowed his brows, glancing at him only for some seconds before he brushed the papers off his head and back downed his beer. Che, even though it's the man's day they celebrated. And no, not his birthday though. The spring hadn't come yet, but it had been two months since the man's 24th birthday on the seventh day of December.

Chaffing at their friend, the best guitarist in their band, ONE OK ROCK's since they only have one guitarist, they drowned the silence Toru made with laughter and singing, ignoring the fact the clock had struck at one on midnight and they might be disturbing the man's neighbors. Although sure enough, they weren't that noisy. Even when they kept laughing harder and louder until their drummer, Tomoya who had busied himself with drumming the table they surrounded choked on his own laugh and Ryota, their bassist almost fell from the sofa to the floor, laughing at the stupid shit his friend did. His stomach hurt. But the aura the man beside him gave surely gave him a bad stomachache.

He glanced to his right, staring at the man who kept his mouth shut tight as if it glued. The only thing the guitarist touched after he had given up with them forcing to come in and celebrating what happened to him today, and joined them in the table were only beer cans. And only Bud Light despite they had the local brand Suntory alongside them or the man's favorite energy drink, Red Bull. He seemed uninterested with the feast the three of them prepared for the party. They had pizzas, topped with pepperoni and seafood, they had buffalo wings and fried chicken thighs, Tomoya hadn't stopped eating it as he did with the fries he placed in front of him. They even prepared a special cake for the thing blessed to their friend to perfect the party. The celebration.

A white sponge cake decorated with diced kiwis, strawberries, melon, and also pieces of orange stood in the middle of the coffee table. A small white-chocolate board written with a special message as sweet as the cake might taste, perfected the cake on the center of it. What message did they write for their band-leader?

'Congrats for the slap, Leader-sama.'

Yeah, they celebrated a slap the handsome Yamashita Toru got from his then-girlfriend this afternoon.

Taka patted the guitarist's back, holding a giggle. "Stop sulking, Toru-san." He eyed Tomoya and Ryota who readied themselves with a beer can in their hand.

"Let's do to a toast, Toru!" Ryota yelled.

Taking an almost empty can from the leader's grasp, Taka placed a new one in there after he opened it. He gently smacked the broad back once again. "Yeah, cheer up. It's your party." He took one for himself. A hiss flew out from the can after he pulled the key, beer foams overflowed from the opening and patterned Toru's black sofa and white floor as he spread his thighs to save his pants. He moved the beer can to his left hand and licked the beer from his right palm tasted the faint bitterness of the beer and saltiness of his skin. Glancing at Toru, he grabbed the man's wrist which grasps held the beer can and raised it up. Though he frowned when Toru yanked his hand out immediately.

"What the f-" Taka frowned, staring at the guitarist. The man downed the beer, ignoring his reaction or the fact the three of them were here. He glanced at the other two who sat on the sofa across from theirs. Ryota blinked confusedly at his childhood friend, and Tomoya nodded his shoulders, sipping his beer without them making a toast. In the end, the silence made by a grumpy man won the battle over the noise the three of them made. The guitarist's neighbors must be happy.

Congrats for that too, Toru-san. Oh, and also for ruining their tradition.

He heaved a long sigh, leaning his back on to the sofa. "Can you be a little happy after we troubled ourselves making a party to cheer you up? Look at how you act," he sipped his beer, then glanced at the man, "like a shit," he murmured.

Yeah, to think they went to Toru's apartment to cheer the guy who seemed unhappy and angry after the incident despite their meeting for the on-coming tour finished late. Add that, they bothered to bring anything, although with the help of the staffs and their assistant plus their manager too, so they could make the horrible situation better for their leader who stormed home after his then-girlfriend slapped him.

Nobody knows what had happened. To think sometimes Toru could easily cheat behind his girlfriend and didn't even think it was cheating it wouldn't be surprised this happened. And, it was that woman too. Maybe she saw Toru with a woman? Or someone told her he was cheating? Or maybe last night they quarreled? Toru came with the sourest expression his already sour face could ever make. Anything that had happened, happened. He just hoped his friend remembered human had found the greatest rubber for the good of themselves, for their dick called condom. Or it'd be either a shotgun marriage or STDs. And that was why Ryota, Tomoya and he decided to throw a party. A tradition they always held whenever somebody between them broke up. Though for today it was special because they immediately did it and not waiting until they less busy.

"No one asking," Toru said before he finished his beer as if he hadn't drink for three days. He threw the empty can to the floor, making the awkward air more uncomfortable, and grabbed another can to be downed.

Without the slightest thank from their precious friend.

Taka scowled at their guitarist. "What the fuck, Toru-san, are you that sad breaking up with your girlfriend?" he jeered.

Not a glance Toru gave him, not even an answer. He kept his head down, hiding his face behind his blond strands, some matted on his skin, wet from sweat. Breathing harder, the man's shoulders fell and rose fast. His trembling hand squeezed the beer can as if he wanted to crush it.

"So, you love this one deeply, huh?" Taka grabbed a pinch of fries and ate it. A strong salty flavor melted fast on his bud as a thought crossed in his head, bitterness once again dominated his sense.

Tomoya cleared his throat. Grabbing his attention, he shook his head, reminding him about what he just did.

He clicked his tongue. It clearly wasn't his fault since the beginning. If Toru hadn't acted like a shit when they tried to cheer him up as per usual he wouldn't act like this too. With more beers, what would happen later? Should they cancel their meeting and discussion for Jinsei x Kimi, their upcoming tour for their leader to tend his broken heart? Why couldn't their leader act professionally?

It was just love.

It was just a woman.

And it was that woman in the first place. _Fuck_.

"Or," Taka glanced at the man, squinting his eyes as he grinned, "was it because she trampled your pride in front of us?" Because she slapped Toru in front of his bandmates and staffs.

"Ah! Let's eat!" Tomoya rose from his seat, clapping his hands. "Toru, look, I will finish the pizza if you don't want it!" He said almost yelling.

After taking a few seconds staring at the drummer, Ryota blinked and clapped his palms. "Oh, yes, let's eat." In a hurry, he snatched a slice of the pizza and gobbled on it. "Oh," he began full-mouthed, his panicked eyes seeking attention on Toru, "this pizza is so tast- _ugh_ ," he coughed, and placed his palm on his mouth, forcing the tasty pizza on to his throat."

"Ryota!" Tomoya grabbed a bottled water and gave him to their stupid bassist.

Taka sighed. He glanced to his left, finding pamphlets among crumpled plastic bags they left on the floor. Stooping from his place after he put down his beer on to the coffee table, he reached the pamphlets, rolling it as much as it could. Thick enough to make it hurt. He then stood up from his sit, landing a hard smack on both of his bandmates' head. Loud painful moan prickled his ears.

"Toru isn't a five-year-old." He threw the rolled papers on the table. "You aren't a five-year-old, right, Toru-chan?" he sneered, "Or are you?"

The man left him unanswered.

Taka tightened his lips.

"Takahiro, do you want a pizza?"

He drew the corner of his lips, forming an asymmetrical smile. "You are pissed because she slapped you in front of us, aren't you?"

"Takahiro!"

A loud thud echoed in the room after Tomoya's yell. Beer spilled on the table, telling them how hard and harsh the owned had placed it there. Toru rose from his seat, walking towards the kitchen a few steps from where they were at. He grabbed the jacket he draped on the dining table chair and clad himself in it.

Finished his business, Ryota followed them to stand. "Where are you going Toru?" his hoarse voice asked.

Toru tapped his lips with his left index and middle fingers.

"Oh, smoking? I can go with you," Ryota pleaded, but to no avail, as his childhood friend clicked his heels and walked away, leaving him behind. A sound of a slammed door echoed in the room, an answer for the bassist question.

Taka clicked his tongue. His brows almost met and his fingers balled into tight fists. He averted his gaze and fell into the untouched food they had bought for the man. The broken-hearted man who ruined everything they did for helping him out from the rough day as if their own days not as rough. They tried to sing, the man silenced them. The food, the beer the man spilled made the chickens and fries soggy. All they had done and all they got was a sound of a slammed door plus a sour face. Where was the usual Yamashita Toru? Who usually brought them porn or forced them to watch zombie movies all night long.

Was he really love that woman? Don't kid him.

He grabbed his jacket he draped on the sofa, "I'm going home."

 

~

 

 

The February night was as cold and annoying as Toru tonight. The icy air pricking on his skin told him the nylon jacket he wore had failed him. Taka rubbed his hands, he should've brought gloves but he thought nothing was going to happen today, and after that that they'd spend the night at Toru's. But the broken-hearted man acted like shit.

Taka marched faster on the snow-covered sidewalk. The only thing crossed his mind was to be as far away from Toru's apartment before he called for a taxi, which going to fetch him at the corner of the street in ten minutes counted after he finished the order, since he didn't want to see Toru's face when he came back from smoking, or wherever he went. Turned out, he had made a poor choice. However, his mood brightened when he saw a dim light at the corner of the street, where he should've waited for his taxi. The last time he saw that place nothing had been installed. Hoping for the vending machine to sell some hot beverages, and pushed by the freezing weather, Taka marched faster.

"Hoo..." His eyes opened wide as he found his wish had become true. The machine sold several kinds of coffee and soup, the latter made his stomach growled, so he focused on what kind of soup the machine had. "Corn, miso, tomato..." his eyes followed through what written on the shelf's price tags. Some soups have two kinds of flavor. Spicy or not. Salty or not. And a slim red and white can grabbed his attention. It was there in the middle of the second row.

A clam soup.

A drawing of huge opened clam adorned the middle of the can. ' _A nutritious clam soup enriched by the essence of 72 types of clam_ ' was written in the upper of the clam's shell.

"How many types of clam are there in the world?" He looked closer. ' _With real clam meats_!' was written under the sentence with a bold and huge font.

Taka gulped, wetting his drying throat. Thanks to the anger Toru brought him aside from the cold weather. Instinctively he touched his stomach and it gurgled. He fished his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and glanced at the price tag, "200 yen." a.k.a expensive for canned soup in a vending machine especially if he compared it with the other soups which priced between 110 and 170 yen. But, well, maybe because it was enriched by the essence of 72 types of clams? As long as it could help his hunger since thanks again for leader and guitarist of Japanese rock band ONE OK ROCK, to the broken-hearted man he only got to eat a pinch of fries from all the food he had bought. And he paid the most. As if it was not enough, at the middle of the night, he strolled alone in the quiet neighborhood like a robber seeking for a house.

"Shit."

He pressed the button for the clam soup after he inserted two coins to the machine. A loud thud followed immediately, and instinct brought him to stoop to grab the hot soup for his stomach. And as if the world hated him, rather than getting warmed by the tasty soup he burned his right palm and hurt his butt as he fell on the ground in a shock. "Ah, fuck!" he grimaced, waving his right hand to cease the pain away. As he did it, his sight caught a glove hanging on the side of the machine.

A kicked the machine, which no matter that stayed in its place strong, unbothered. "Fucking clam soup." What fault had he made yesterday that it made him so unlucky today? After everything that had happened when all he wanted to do was to cheer his bandmate up. After all, it was that woman. But what did actually had happened? The broken-hearted man acted like he was a five-year-old. A real five-year-old would be more tolerable.

And here he is, sitting on the sidewalk under the freezing weather. His butt cold, his palm burned. Starved and tired. Because of their broken-hearted guitarist, or maybe pissed guitarist since, yeah, that woman slapped him inside their changing room in their agency's building. That was a shock. The woman stormed into their changing room during lunch as they discussed the upcoming tour. She screamed at Toru. Her eyes red and swollen by tears. Tired of screaming, also with the fact Toru stayed silent, she landed a hard slap on his cheek. He could still hear the sound she made on Toru's cheek.

What had happened bothered him. Or maybe not. He had his own history with Toru's ex-girlfriend. Before this afternoon, they had broken up for a while before getting back together again, although he never saw her that mad and eventually ended up acting like a crazy woman possessed by a ghost. Maybe Toru did cheat? Who knows. And the woman he cheated with sent her their picture together. Perhaps after they slept together. That's gonna be wild if media sniffed it. Like if they knew what happened this afternoon. But that was Toru's problem with his then-girlfriend, and not the band's.

_Ah, he got a headache._

Taka massaged his forehead. His raven curls tickled his palm. The pain had gone however, he felt much like shit. Somehow he wondered, who had been always reminded to not make trouble? Of course, not Yamashita Toru. _Ah, fuck, that man..._

"Why are you sitting on the sidewalk?"

A heavy, hoarse bariton trembled his eardrums, forcing him to turn towards the owner. His eyes found a tall figure stood two steps from him to his right, contrasted the night sky behind him. His blond strands swayed gently by the night winds' rhythm. Framed by a black leather jacket and a tight white t-shirt he could see the man's slim and athletic body, his long legs clad in fitted jeans with a similar color as his jacket. Taka swallowed hard, feeling the turmoil inside him the second his eyes met the gaze of Toru's bedroom eyes which always seemed unpleased. The man's sharp stare is always able to tear apart the balance he had.

Yamashita Toru was the dawn which awakens desires and passions that have been soundly asleep in him.

"C'mon." A big warm hand stretched out to him.

Taka blinked, staring at the hand in front of his face. His fingers twitched, moved by the need to answer those long fingers that had always successfully captivated him whenever it strummed the guitar, dancing on the fretboard. To have it in his grasps. But, a thing crossed his mind, the burning pain in his palm became cold like his heart. Like his desire.

He turned his face away, his eyes peering around for his wallet he grabbed fast when he found it. He brought himself to stand, holding on the machine after he put his wallet on his jacket's pocket and took the soup can. It had turned warm.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Toru frowning. His stretched arm lingered in the air for a moment before he slipped both of his hands inside his jeans' front pockets. "Still upset?" he said, with a tone colder than the night.

"Who won't?" Taka yanked the soup can's key, warm rose to the sky, making a faint grey smoke and brought a fishy smell to his nose. It smelt good, though. He glanced over the man, "when you acted like an annoying toddler."

"Okay, all right," Toru sighed, "Sorry." He shrugged.

"Tell that to the other two." Taka drank the clam soup. Salty, savory and fishy or maybe clam flavor, were all he could describe from the taste. And a bit spicy. warm trailed his throat, chest and pooled on his stomach. It tasted nice, not as good as the smell, but not bad. However...

"Will tell them later," Toru said.

Taka frowned. "'Kay." He moved closer towards the street lamp and peeking inside the can.

"What are you doin-"

" _Shh_." He held his left hand out to Toru before the man was able to finish his sentence. Shaking the can, he tried to find what the manufacturer had promised him. He saw pieces of leek floating, but, even though he had gulped almost half of the soup he hadn't tasted it. The flesh of the clam.

 _Ck_ , they fooled him. Should he sue them?

Taka heaved a long sigh. He averted his gaze to the guitarist. "Then, what are you doing here? Are you stalking me? Again?" He raised a brow. "You do really love doing it, eh?" A low chuckle escaped his mouth.

"No, I-"

"No?"

For a few seconds, silence blanketed them in awkwardness. Toru lowered his head, hiding the expression he had behind his blond strands which contrasted the night. His dark irises refused him an answer to the question popped into his mind.

"Wha-" Taka opened his mouth, wanting to question the man when from afar he saw lights getting closer to them. "Oh!" Hurriedly, he looked over the guitarist's shoulder. Realizing what the light was, a smile spread across his face. He heaved a breathe, feeling relieved.

Fucking finally.

"Well, my taxi is here," patted Toru's shoulder as he passed his bandmate, walking towards the taxi which stopped few steps ahead of him, without giving the guitarist a glance, "go home alrea-"

 _Hot_.

The soup splashed on his feet as the can roll on the ground. In his place, he froze, feeling how Toru's hot breathe, hotter than the soup wetting his jeans and feet, tickled his neck. Hot spread on his back. Hot swept his skin. Desire fluttered on his stomach. His blood rushed fast in his veins. And his breath became harder and faster like his heartbeat. But he tried, he tried calming himself, biting his underlip.

 _Why?_ , The question echoed in his head.

Inside Toru's embrace, he was a prey trapped in a spider web. The more he fought, the more the web tightened around him. That was why he stayed still, listening to the loud heartbeat drumming his ears.

The sound was awful.

"My head hurt." But Toru's voice was beautiful. Heavy and low. His breath hot in his ear. A beautiful voice deafened him from melodies, but the melody the man created. The melody of his heavy breathing. The melody from the fast-beating heart that grew louder when Toru pressed his chest closer to his back, tightened his embrace. Trapped him more and more.

"Don't leave me, Takahiro."

Yamashita Toru, a man colder and crueler than the February's night's weather. Inside the man's embrace, his feeling he had been hiding all these years overflowed, spilling like the clam soup soaking the sidewalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say, aside this is finished works I once said wouldn't translate out of anger coz y'know lmaoooooo but here it is thanks for reading! :"D


	2. Tainted By The Color of Sin

" _ **So**_ , you and Ryota went home already?" Taka sighed faintly. His fingers crawled to the crook of his neck, massaging his stiffened muscles from there to his nape. He felt like his neck almost broken after he carried Toru, a man with a body larger than him out from the taxi to the 8th floor alone. Okay, his apartment security helped him carrying Toru until the elevator, but still, from the parking lot until the floor where his apartment room at he had this sturdy arm draped on his shoulder and the owner burdened him with all of his weight. "Okay, then, tell Ryota to message me after he arrived home." Good thing, it felt his bones were all still in its places.

He glanced at the black sofa three steps from the large window where he was leaning his shoulder at. "Oh, so it means I met him after he went back and left again? And after that, you two left his house?" The man they were talking about was sleeping on the sofa with his right arm covering his face. Maybe finally fell asleep, since he said his head hurt and he felt dizzy all the way to his apartment. Yeah, how Toru's head suddenly hurt and got dizzy, was out of his understanding. Especially after he walked alone under the freezing weather to smoke and finally until the two of them met in front of that vending machine. Perhaps, in the end, alcohol took the best out of the guitarist. Though, he should've had brought Toru back to the man's apartment no matter how Toru refused to come back home. But yeah, let's be a good friend.

"Yeah, met him when I waited for my taxi." Taka averted his attention to outside his window. "He asked about me?" Flashes and red and orange light dots colored the tranquil night, coming from the tall buildings outside his apartment or vehicles on the road. Tranquil might not the right word to use, because despite the day was two hours closer to morning, the road wasn't fully empty from cars. However, that was Tokyo for you.

Taka pulled the curtains. "Huh? He asked about me?" He frowned, scratching his right cheek. "Oh, maybe because he got surprised his beloved vocalist wasn't there, and," he walked closer to the sofa where Toru was at, staring at the man. "and want to apologize to me." He snorted. "Because he did."

From across the phone, the drummer laughed.

"I don't know," he chuckled, turning his back against Toru, "Probably he lost a screw or two after that woman slapped him," his chuckle turned into a laugh despite he tried to keep his voice down. Poor Toru was asleep. "Let's, Let's run if later he changed into Ryota." Because if suddenly the cold and calm looking guitarist acted stupid and innocent like their bassist that's gonna be more horror than any haunted houses they ever visited or horror movies they ever watched. Scarier than any urban legends, even he would absolutely flirt with the Slith-Mouthed Woman because she would be cuter and sweeter than Toru with Ryota's personality. Good thing the drummer agreed with him. Even though he was definitely going to sacrifice Tomoya to run from Toru.

This time Taka crinkled his forehead. "What do you mean by that?" he moaned in protest as he paced towards his bedroom to get a blanket and returned fast. "Shut up, I won't fight him if Toru didn't piss me off, if he does this morning, then it isn't my fault." He meant he wouldn't leave if Toru didn't start it first. Especially after they-- _he!_ \--went into trouble to cheer the guitarist up.

"Yeah, yeah," Taka faced the guitarist and blanketed the guitarist's legs before he bent down and dragged the blanket up to the guitarist's chest. "Okay, will tell him later, you put the key under his doorma--" A grip around his left wrist stopped his movement. He pressed his lips into thin lines, staring at the man who brought himself to sit.

"Who?" the man asked.

"Tomoya."

"I see." The blond-haired man averted his gaze without releasing his wrist.

"My hand..." Taka whispered at the man who gave him a glance before he massaged his temple using his other hand, ignoring him. "Yeah, Toru is up," this time he answered the band's drummer.

"Taka..." Before he could respond, a pull on his wrist made him lurched forward, falling into the man. Immediately the blond-haired switched their positions, pressing his shoulders into the sofa and trapped him in between. A loud thud followed his harsh breathe after he lost grasp over his phone as he tried to push the bigger man away from him.

_Shit._

"What the fuck are you doing?" Taka gritted his teeth, his fingers clenched tight on his bandmate's t-shirt. The blaze gleaming on his midnight irises as he glared at the man should be enough to tell what he felt. But, it was a stupid drunk man he dealt with. A stupid drunk man he played his heart against.

A madman.

A provocative, demanding lips pressed against his, destroying the wall he erected since the day the feeling he bore behind his ribs started to suffocate him. As the wall crumbled into pieces, the man forced his ego towards him, wet tongue slipped in between his lips spreading bitterness all over his taste bud and threw his body into a blaze, reminding him of how love tasted like. Far bitter than a trace of Marlboro on Toru's lips, far hotter than the Bud Light flew inside his veins. The madman drove him crazier as he suffocated him with a forceful, greedy kiss. In the taste of Toru, he drowned.

His fists gripping on Toru's t-shirt loosened. The blaze pooled on his stomach and thighs made him relaxed. His breath became as heavy and fast as his heartbeat. The lustful, full of frustration sound of their wet kiss hypnotized him. The scent of soap, sweat, tobacco, beer and the last of Toru's perfume immersed in his sense filled his body with desires until it overflowed. And desires that had been spilled would never back to its place than leaving a stain on the floor. But, he hated pain. And would always hate pain. That and the rustling sound from his phone helped him in finding his sanity back.

Using all the power he had, Taka pushed Toru away from him. The man fell back, his grimace echoed in his ears alongside his own hunting breath. "Fuck you," he said before he grabbed his phone and brought himself to stand. "Will call you later," he said, answering the band's drummer's confusion.

He threw his phone to the sofa, and moving closer to Toru, he yanked the man's arm, forcing the man to stand up. "Go home," he ordered. But rather than doing of what he asked, Toru slapped his hand instead.

"Don't wanna," the man said.

Taka frowned, staring at the man who staggered trying to bring himself up. "It's my home when I told you to get out. Just get out."

Massaging his temple, Toru clicked his tongue. "I thought we're a friend."

Taka bit his underlip. The warmth of their kiss still lingered on his lips. Inside, he battled with the need to brush the trace of Toru's lips away, and the need to let it be there. To let him tasted the bitterness more. He wanted it. He wanted Toru's kiss to stay there on his lips.

He tightened his fists. "Go home."

"I said, I don't want," Toru sighed, staring at him coldly and unamused, "or are you deaf?"

Arrogant and stubborn.  
  
Like soup stains that don't want to disappear from clothes, that was Yamashita Toru.

For eight years they had known each other and Toru not a slight acted differently than a teenager who came to him and asked him to join a band that didn't even get a name yet. Proudly he said he'd make him sing with his head up. For weeks the arrogant young man pursued him, coming to every Chivalry of Music's gigs, watch them without sparing a blink to not creep them-- _him_ \--out; sent him ton of messages without stopping, and even being the unneeded customer at where he worked that time, yet with only a glass of water he ordered, the teen arrogantly enough in insisting that he wouldn't leave until he said ok to watch the nameless band's rehearsal.

Just like as he did tonight.

Takahiro fisted his fingers, holding a surge of anger from bursting although his frown, hunting breath, and the glint on his midnight colored eyes should be enough for a tell. "I said, go home," firmly he made his sentence.

"I won't," Toru responded, his bariton hoarse and heavy affected by the amount of alcohol he drank.

Lurching forward, Taka grabbed and pulled the guitarist's wrist, forcing the owner to go on his way to the door. _Fuck it!_ He should've had never let this man following him home, and brought the man back to the man's own apartment and deafening his ears from the man's plead. From the first place, there wasn't any reason for him to tend Toru's broken heart more than what he already did alongside Tomoya and Ryota. Dammit, he wasted his money, and he couldn't even get some rest after.

_Godfuckingdammit._

Toru gripped his right arm with his left hand, stopping him from walking further.

Taka frowned deeper as he stared at his bandmate, "Can you please, just go home already?" He was too tired for more shits.

"I thought we were friends."

He grunted. "But that doesn't mean you can disturb me for more than this," Taka paused, swallowing his saliva, "nor you can kiss me."

Toru stared at the deep of his eyes, "It was just a kiss."

Taka frowned deeper, pressing his lips together. His heart beat too fast for him to be able to calm it down in an instant. The warm of Toru's lips still lingered on his own lips, and hot crawling slowly to his cheeks. Maybe it was from anger bottling up in his chest, or was it because of the big hand wrapped on his arm? Toru's palm warm on his skin.

"Just go home already," he said. "I'm tired."

Toru's fingers deftly grabbed his shoulders before he could escape. The man aligned their faces at each other's eyes, imprisoning him. His rough warm breath forced him to forget the cold that had gnawed his body. Warmer than the room. Hotter than the smoke of the forgotten calm soup left behind to froze on the sidewalk.

"Sleep with me."

At first, all he did after the soft whisper reached his eardrums was standing in silence, his brain working hard in processing the sentence. As he caught the meaning of the sentence, a lump appeared on his throat, his eyes gradually widened, and his mouth fell agape but not a single word he's able to say. Then, his thought became a tangled mess, trying to find a word, trying to make an answer to that horrible sentence. And, his sanity began to fade away, every feeling he hid deep in his heart starting to flow out, but he's holding out. He balled his fingers into a tight fist, nails digging into his palms.

He was a soup in a can, all his secrets were spilled just like that. He was forced to show his true colors, only to be left to freeze on the sidewalk. Being forgotten.  _What a cruel man._

But, he wasn't one to let himself being played on. Not even by his own friend. Not even by a man who held his heart to tight. Not even by Yamashita Toru.

"Asshole!" No matter how hard he gripped Toru's wrists, trying to break away, it was useless. "Don't fucking joke with me."

"Do you think there's something funny?" Toru strengthened the grip on his shoulders, forcefully pulled him close.

"Ha ha ha ha ha yes, there is." Taka laughed sarcastically. "You." Too tired trying to break away, he gripped Toru's shirt. "What's wrong with you? Looking pissed when we try to make you feel better and now you're trying to play with me?"

Without giving him his demanded answer, Toru grabbed his wrists.

Taka gritted his teeth, squinting his eyes. Anger raged behind his ribs. It was hurt, the pain pounding his chest. "Do you think I'll be interested in sleeping with men?" He breathed harshly. A whiff of alcohol's and tobacco's aroma teased his sense, hypnotizing him to oblige the man's plea.

"Thought you're bisexual." Thin lips drew a playful smile on the owner's face, sleepy bedroom eyes full of confidence as if alcohol were to dispel doubts and fears within. What an arrogant man.

"Even if I am, I won't fucking sleep with you," Taka barked.

Toru brought his face closer, the tip of their noses brushed, making him looking away only for letting those lips finding his right ear. Toru's rough hot breath tickled his skin. "Then? Who is it then? Shohei? Takeru?"

"You!" Taka pushed the man's chest as strong as he could.

Bewildered, the man let go of his grip and staggered backward, acting like he had ten cans than three or maybe fewer.

"I'll call you a taxi." He tapped his jeans front and back pocket and frowning when he realized he left his cellphone on the table. Rushing past Toru who had found his balance, once again Toru stopped him, grabbing on his arm.

"Takahiro...," the man pleaded.

He threw an annoyed glance at Toru, "Let go, or I'll punch you instead." This time, mark his word.

For a second Toru silently stared at him, before he stepped back and released his arm. "All right." He raised both of his hands to his shoulder's height. "I give up." Toru averted his gaze, his hands fell to his side.

At that moment, he caught a glimpse of something from Toru's eyes. From his expression. What was it you hide from him? Was what it that made you act like this? Was it that woman? Was it because you love her?

_What was it?_

"At least, Takahiro, let me stay here tonight." Being tired and drunk made Toru looked 30 years old than 24.

"No." Taka shook his head.

Toru sighed, and shambled off towards the sofa, dropping his body there.

Moving closer to the coffee table, Taka grabbed his cellphone. He glanced at the tired and tiresome guitarist who let himself to doze off. "Just go home, man. You drunk as fuck." Back to his phone, he tried to find the taxi's number and called for one although he cut off the line before he connected when Toru pleaded another plea. This time to let him cool down a bit, he'll go home in fifteen minutes which he complied.

Taka shuffled towards the one person sofa beside the long sofa where the guitarist at. "You really are a five-year-old, Toru-san." He sighed, putting his phone back on the coffee table.

Interlocking his fingers, he fixed his eyes at the man who leaned on the sofa and hid his drowsy eyes behind his left arm. Ah, what the fuck. He exhaled a deep breath. Sometimes, even for him, Toru is hard to understand. Being a man of fewer words, making Toru hard to guess indeed, but even with the differences in mindset, they both had, with the same goal in their mind, he more or less still able to understand some things about Toru. Outside of this one which made the guitarist felt out of character, though he did have his moment sometimes and maybe not really out of character, judging by the fact when Toru found someone he liked to talk with, he was quite aggressive and could do much talk.

But this time? He didn't quite understand about what happened in Toru's head. After making too much scene caused by his now ex-girlfriend, pissed them off, and then...

Taka bit the inside of his bottom lip. His right leg moving anxiously up and down and his shoulders stiffened. He traced his lips with his right fingers, hoping Toru won't see it. The warmth hadn't yet disappeared. He was confused by the fast beating of his heart.

Selfishly kissing him like that, asking him to fuck, what had happened with Toru really? Thinking the way he acted like this could possibly be caused by that woman raged him.

If only, if only they didn't get trapped in all of these bullshits perhaps he...perhaps he'd answer that kiss. And said, ' _Sure, let's fuck_.', but... "Who knows heartbroken could make you look like one pile of huge mess." Taka lowered his head down, staring at how his fingers linked together. He felt a huge crush on his chest, and oxygen slowly left his lungs dry. There were heavy pressures on the pit of his heart and forehead. Nauseous and dizzy, he became.  
  
"Am I really look like that?" Toru laughed, weak and bitter.

Swallowing a lump of saliva, Taka opened his mouth, "The kiss..." He stared at his bandmate. "I mean, say, will you kiss me and fuck me if it isn't like this?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Looking like a mess, being heartbroken."

Toru slid his arm down to the side of his body. Bedroom eyes caught his stare. He hoped, he didn't look all hopeful. It was shameful. The guitarist straightened his back. "What if I am?"

Chuckles escaped from Taka's mouth, not because of joy, but rather awkwardness. Or maybe because "Still 'cause you're heartbroken?"  
  
Standing up, Toru stepped closer to him. The man looks down, holding his body weight by leaning his hands on the arm of the chair. He was stuck between Toru's sturdy body and the sofa. "Then, what would you do if I was?"  
  
Taka unconsciously gulped a lump of saliva down his throat. His hunting breath, since when did it slowing down? Unlike the thump behind his ribs. His hands fell weak on his laps. Their intense stare locking into each other's subconsciousness, begging for answers to every question they darted back and forth. However still, not a single word flew out their mouth but silence.

Something, something inside him had begun to crumble. So he asked, "Say, Toru. Do you love Yuri?" Slowly after a pain crawled towards his chest. It twisted his blood vessels, crushing his heart.

Toru tilted his head. As he naughtily squinted his eyes, his bow-shaped lips curled into a smile that'd made any women opened their legs for the guitarist. "I got bored with women." Yet, any women would be crushed into tears if they heard those words coming from the guitarist's mouth.

Gradually, Taka closed his eyes as his low, awkward chuckles evolved to laugh. He opened his eyes, staring right into two dark marbles framed in a drowsy shape of eyes. "Now, I understood why Yuri left that mark on your cheek." Again, he gulped down, trying to fight a surge of lust from controlling him.

The guitarist leaned forward. Toru's breath felt hot on his skin. On his dry lips. "Will you pity me then?" the man asked, without even hiding lust from his gleaming dark eyes.

Taka frowned, raising a brow. He realized, from ego words of truth would never be born. "Call a damn gigolo, goddamn..." Lie became an answer as he buried the truth six feet under, within his own Pandora Box.

"I want you, Takahiro."

But in the end, "Fuck you.", as once again their lips met, he gave up.

 

 

~

 

 

Classical music never took his interest despite at times his parents and grandparents would make him listen to it. But even so, he had heard of Giuseppe Tartini. A man who dreamed of how a Devil playing a sonata with his violin. The devil enchanted Tartini with a beautiful and intense magnificent performance, that the violinist forgot how to breathe.

He did too, forgot how to breathe. Enchanted by the face Toru made as he drove him far to insanity, filling him with every inch of his; as his lips and tongue dominated his taste, and as his heavy, hoarse breath became a sonata for his ears.

And if after he heard the violin sonata, Tartini sold his soul to the devil; _he sold his soul to Toru_.

For the ' _Devil Trill_ ' Toru granted him.

 

 

~

 

 

Tired, Taka rolled to the corner of the bed, basking in the afterglow. He breathed like a glutton, drenched in sweat and sex. A mess. Total mess. The fact outside was cold and he turned the AC on, had done nothing to cool down the flame blanketed his body. While he hated pain, Toru gave him too much pain that it wasn't hyperbole if he admitted he maybe wouldn't even unable to walk later. What a cruel man Yamashita Toru was, playing with his heart, turned him into one pile of a huge mess, and made him spilled it. The true color of his he hid for years.

_Fuck it._

The bed creaked, and Toru grabbed his arm, pulling him into the guitarist's embrace.

"I don't know you are this kind of type." Who loved to cuddle his one-night-stand, or perhaps because he was his vocalist. A band leader should treat his member well, right?

Answering with a low chuckle, Toru planted a kiss on his shoulder that felt like it was gonna separated from his body. Gently, Toru propped him to lie on his back before the guitarist imprisoned him between his handsomely muscled arms. Lowering himself, Toru started chasing for his lips from the crook of his neck.

And they kissed.

In a long, dragging, and sloppy wet kisses they shared their frustration and passion. A discordant melody, not even he wanted to hear it.

"How is it?" Toru whispered on his lips. He pressed their body against each other, forcing a moan to escape his mouth.

_A shitty moan of his._

Gently, Toru glancing at him before he busied himself with kissing him all over again. "Tell me, how does it feel, Takahiro?" The guitarist's baritone asked. "What do you feel?"

Taka reached the guitarist's neck, his legs locking the man's waist. How does it felt? Every friction they shared with no woman found between them as the bed screamed, preaching on them. What did he felt? As hellfire burnt their body for they drowned themselves in a sea of gluttony, lust, and greed. He cupped the man's cheeks, staring into Toru's drowsy eyes, "Sin."

Sin had colored him anew.

Sin had changed their relationship from just a best friend to something less important and more complex than a lover.

However, with him scooping Toru's lips with a passionate lustful kiss, the man should know he celebrated it. He celebrated the sin they shared together. More than just with a cake and a lot of boozes. Hotter than the clam soup burning his palms.

This was their celebration, a moment to show their true colors.


End file.
